Telling the Calm from the Storm
by Saltandsweat
Summary: One-shot, set immediately after Voldemort falls in Godric's Hollow. An unexpected guest interrupts Severus as he waits for fate to take its course. Rated for mature content/relationships.


A/N: This a one-shot involving an explicit slash relationship. Be warned.

(Also – I'm aware there may be inconsistencies with the book's version of events. Unfortunately I don't have it with me, and can't check exactly when things happen. Expect emotional inconsistencies also.)

Reviews would be very much appreciated – this is my first posting for quite some time!

*****

**Telling the Calm from the Storm**

It was midnight, Severus knew: the grandfather clock he had inherited from his mother's sister had a particularly loud chime, and he had long been in the habit of counting the hours every time it struck.

He left his bath running, the steam beginning to rise in the round bathroom, and went through to his bedroom to undress. He had not slept last night. Things were not going well.

He pulled off his black jumper, then lifted his head sharply at a faint sound.

Someone had just opened the gate in the back of the garden.

Severus took his wand out of his pocket and extinguished the light in the bedroom, so he could see the garden, faintly lit by the glow from streetlamps. He could see no one. Whoever it was in his garden was either well-disguised, incredibly quick, or a figment of his imagination.

Then the intruder alarms by his bed went off, and he was sure.

Noiselessly he went downstairs and stood in the hallway, trying to breathe slowly so he could listen. The bath was still running, he could hear that – but if someone really had been sent to kill him, a flooded bathroom would not be high on his list of worries.

There was a soft click from the kitchen – the back door closing. They had got in? _How_?

Severus closed his eyes for a second and swallowed. Then he moved, fast, strode through to the kitchen and illuminated the room with a word.

The man with long blonde hair in his kitchen flinched, and Severus held back his wand hand. 'Lucius.'

'How extraordinarily hospitable,' Lucius remarked. 'You should have known I would come, Severus.'

Severus turned away from him and went through into the living room, jabbing his wand up towards the ceiling to stop the bath running. Lucius followed him. 'Aren't you going to offer me a drink?'

Rolling his eyes, Severus summoned a decanter of brandy and two glasses. 'They let you out, then.'

Lucius sank into one of the armchairs, and Severus looked at him properly. He looked awful. His hair was tangled, dulled from its usual near-white sheen; his eyes were bloodshot and his robes looked – and smelled – like they had not been washed for a good week. Azkaban had not agreed with him.

He poured a generous measure of brandy for Lucius, and levitated it across the room to him. Lucius drank, downed the whole glass in one, and sighed. 'Thank you. The first alcohol I've had for some time.'

Severus sat, swirled his brandy, not drinking.

The other man looked at him for a few seconds; then his eyes lowered to the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ on the coffee table in front of him, which was open at a rather large picture of Lucius himself. He smirked. 'You've been keeping up with developments, I see. How flattering.'

'Always good to track one's own betrayal,' Severus said coldly.

Lucius regarded him. 'What betrayal, Severus?'

Suddenly something fell into place in Severus's mind. He realised what must have happened, and looked up at Lucius. 'You didn't give my name.'

Lucius shook his head, keeping his eyes on Severus's. 'Did you really think I would?' he asked.

'Of course.'

'No.' Lucius took out his own wand and summoned the decanter to refill his glass. 'I had enough other names. You're safe for the moment.'

Severus could have wept. Lucius didn't know that he had gone to Dumbledore a month ago – but nor did the Ministry, officially. If Lucius had mentioned his name, he would have to be arrested instantly.

'Who is it tomorrow? Bella?'

'Yes.'

Severus smiled, without humour. 'I may as well go to that trial, then, just to make it convenient for them.'

'And yet you didn't come to mine?'

There was a pause. Then Severus said, 'How do you know I wasn't there?'

Lucius spoke more gently now – more gently, perhaps, than Severus had ever heard him. 'Severus, do you really think you could ever be in the same room as me without my knowing it?' Then his voice sharpened again. 'It was disappointing, to say the least, that you weren't there.'

Severus shrugged, trying not to react to what had sounded like a genuine admission of feeling. 'I knew they'd let you out. I didn't want to distract you from your _performance_.'

It was, perhaps, more cutting than he had intended, but Lucius laughed. 'Believe me, Severus – if you had been there, my performance would have been even more dazzling.' Then he looked up at the ceiling. 'Did I hear a bath running earlier?'

'I was hoping to relax myself enough to sleep this evening. Little chance of that now, I suppose.'

A sly smile touched Lucius's lips. 'We'll see.' He stood up. 'Upstairs,' he said softly. '_Now_.'

As Severus went up, his mind sank into a blissful, excited trance: his heart was beating faster, and his balls were beginning to tingle faintly. He was no longer in control. He did not have to decide on his own fate until tomorrow.

He went into the bathroom. Lucius came in just behind him and closed the door. 'Strip,' he ordered.

In all fairness, Severus reflected, unbuttoning his black shirt, Lucius looked like he needed a bath far more than he did. It seemed illogical. But he obeyed anyway, by default. Next to him, the sunken bath waited, full to the brim and heaped with bubbles.

Lucius watched him take off the rest of his clothes and straighten up, his eyes resting momentarily on Severus's semi-erect cock. 'I believe, Severus,' he said, 'you may have a chance to make up for your disappointing behaviour.' He indicated the bath. 'In you get.'

Severus lowered himself into the bath, exhaling in pleasure as the hot water covered him up to his shoulders. Behind him, Lucius too had begun to undress; then, naked, he sat on the edge of the bath, his legs in the water, and drew Severus's head to rest between his thighs, gasping softly at the light pressure on his genitals. 'That's more like it,' he murmured. 'Get your hair wet.'

Severus leaned forward and submerged his whole head in the foamy water. When he sat back up, he felt Lucius's fingers take hold of his hair, and begin to knead his head gently, working the cream into a lather, washing his hair. He wanted to speak, to apologise for not coming to the trial, but Lucius had always liked him silent in these situations, unless he was permitted to speak. Besides, if previous experiences were anything to go by, Lucius would know exactly what he was thinking anyway.

Lucius continued to massage him, moving down to his neck and shoulders. Severus resolved to be as obedient as possible. If Lucius did not allow him to come tonight, like last time, there would certainly be no sleep for him, regardless of what he could do on his own.

'Did you miss me?' Lucius asked softly.

'Yes, Master,' Severus replied, his whole body surging with relief and joy to be allowed to call Lucius his master. What a better master he had always been than the Dark Lord, who knew nothing of real domination.

'Good.' Lucius pulled his head more firmly against him. 'Azkaban has been highly unsatisfying compared to this.'

Severus half turned his head to look at Lucius. 'What was it like?'

At first Lucius did not reply, but continued to move his palms over Severus's body. Severus wondered if he was about to be punished for speaking out of turn. Then he said, very quietly, 'If everyone you had ever known had died and been replaced with ghosts that howled in your ears and put Cruciatus on you for hours at a time, that would still be preferable to the Dementors. They are – they're absence. I could never have imagined it.'

Severus nodded slightly; then a firm hand on the side of his head moved his gaze back forwards, and he settled into Lucius's groin again. 'Do not turn around or speak again without permission,' Lucius murmured,' and Severus responded automatically, 'Yes, Master.'

Behind him he could feel Lucius relaxing. He remembered how Lucius had changed in the months up to the Potters' deaths: he had become harder, leaner, a true Dark Warrior. Severus had seen him duel and grow better with every battle, faster and more powerful. In one skirmish, for a good minute, Lucius had held off three members of the Order of the Phoenix at once, his long hair whirling around him as he dodged and blocked hexes, and responded with some of the most terrifying dark magic Severus had ever seen (not counting the Dark Lord, of course). Each time Lucius had killed, Severus's infatuation for this extraordinary man had swelled. When Lucius beckoned with long fingers, Severus came to him.

'Now. Get out, dry yourself, and wait on all fours on the bed for me.'

Wordlessly Severus stood up – not without some regret – and climbed out of the bath as Lucius slid quickly into it and lifted his towel from the rail. Lucius turned his head to the side, his profile picked out against the bathwater, waiting but not watching.

As Severus went through to the bedroom, he wondered how long Lucius would make him wait. Several times, it had been hours: nearly three hours, to be precise, of staring at his bedsheets, freezing cold, shivering, waiting to be released. He had been well rewarded for it, he could not deny that. But it hadn't been pleasant.

He climbed onto the bed, and began to wait.

From the bathroom he could hear Lucius moving around, shaking a towel, letting the bath empty. He was beginning to get cold now: he hadn't dried himself properly, and the water on his back was chilling in the air.

At least this was something you could get used to. Each time the mind settled more quickly into a meditative trance that made it a little easier to ignore physical discomfort and focus on the delights of serving Lucius, as he had known he wanted to since Hogwarts. When this desire was finally fulfilled, the phrase 'dream come true' had sprung to Severus's mind, before he remembered that 'true' was a word with no meaning. Still, it remained a largely satisfying relationship to be in.

He rocked back and forth on his hands and knees slightly, trying to keep his back loose. Last time he had become so stiff that he had nearly crippled himself by moving too suddenly. He seriously hoped no one was coming for him from the Ministry now: he was rather too aware of his own erection as he listened to Lucius moving around.

Finally he heard him come into the bedroom behind him, stand still, and exhale slowly. Severus realised he was being looked at, and desperately tried to keep himself from whining in desire. Of course it was harder to remain patient when your lover was standing right behind you. Lucius was still testing him.

Gradually he heard Lucius's breathing becoming louder, more rhythmic. He wondered if he was touching himself; he desperately wanted to turn and look at Lucius when he was aroused. But Lucius was Master. The gaze was his to use as he wished, and Severus's eyes were not his own. He tried to tell himself this again and again, repeating it in his head with every gasp he heard from Lucius – not his own – not his own – not his own – and his own breath began to feel heavy and insufficient. He begged Lucius silently to be able to turn around.

At last, Lucius spoke, in a low voice, choked with excitement. 'Close your eyes.' Severus did so; then Lucius came forwards, close behind him, and reached in front of Severus to grasp his erection. Severus couldn't help it: his chest spasmed and he let out a moan.

'Control yourself,' Lucius murmured, beginning to slide his fingertips down the underside of the shaft towards Severus's balls, which were screaming, like his cock, to be touched. He tickled and stroked Severus, gently at first, then more firmly, and it was all Severus could do not to thrust into his hand urgently – it would not be worth it, it told himself: there was always better to come with obedience.

He knew Lucius well. He was right. 'Keep your eyes closed,' Lucius ordered, and turn over onto your back.' Severus let himself down gratefully, relieving his shoulders from his own weight, and rolled onto his back, his legs spread, offering himself to his Master.

'Good boy,' Lucius said softly, and Severus shivered, knowing he would be rewarded. Lucius seemed unwilling to be more rough with him this evening: he hadn't smacked or beaten him, or paralysed him, scratched him, pulled his hair – no, his usual methods seemed to have been replaced tonight with something gentler and more direct.

He felt Lucius lower his own body towards his, breathing on his stomach, the air between them hot with the warmth they were giving out – and then Lucius's tongue touched the head of Severus's cock, and Severus, his eyes tightly closed, flung his head back and tried to remind himself to breathe, as bolts of convulsive pleasure shot through him. Lucius's mouth was sly, like its owner, and teased him again and again, sending him careering towards the edge and whimpering like an animal, before pulling back and letting him calm down.

'Tell me whose you are,' Lucius hissed, the air striking Severus's body with a cold shock. 'Tell me _now_.'

'Yours!' Severus gasped, and as Lucius began to suck him again he repeated it, his voice slurring with pleasure and barely able to frame the words – 'I'm yours, I'm yours ...'

Just as he was about to come, with head-splitting violence, Lucius pulled back again, and, unable to control the agony Severus opened his eyes and looked at his Master – and immediately forgot about the pleasure.

Lucius's bare, beautiful torso, slim and hard, was engraved, criss-crossed all over with long, red scars.

Severus looked at his Master in horror, unable to think, unable to do anything but stare at the wounds. 'Lucius ...'

The blonde man's face was grim and blank. He reached out and put a hand roughly over Severus's eyes. 'How _dare_ you disobey me ...' He stayed still for a few seconds, Severus beginning to cry under his hand, shocked out of his arousal.

Then suddenly Lucius said coldly, 'Get back on all fours, you filthy, uncontrollable boy.' Severus did as he was told. He was really frightened now.

He heard Lucius spit into his hand, and then a few seconds later felt the head of his cock press against his arse, opening him, forcing its entrance. Severus gasped: he wanted to be fucked by Lucius, so much, but not in anger, and not when he knew he was disfigured and in pain.

But his body decided for him. His cock hardened again as Lucius pushed himself deeper, and began to thrust into him slowly, not speaking. He took the silence as a kind of punishment, and this time found it easy not to speak, letting himself be taken completely, giving his whole mind up to his lover. Lucius began to move faster, and panted, '_Touch yourself_' – and Severus lowered his head to the bead to take his weight, and moved his left hand down to his cock, jerking his hand up the shaft in rhythm with Lucius's thrusts. 'Yes,' his Master gasped, 'yes, _yes_ ...' He began to shudder, and Severus knew he was about to come – then his shout of pleasure, so incoherent it could have been for pain, was enough to send Severus over the edge, and he fell into a crashing climax, his semen covering his hand and dripping onto the bedsheets as he felt Lucius's own, hot semen fill him.

As the waves of tension left them, the two of them slumped onto the bed and lay, letting their breathing slow. Severus could feel the roughness of Lucius's skin where the scars were against him, and understood why he had been made to keep his eyes closed, and why Lucius had barely touched him.

Lucius reached behind him for his wand, and turned out the light in the bedroom, leaving them in darkness, before he drew Severus with him up the bed and under the covers, holding him against his own body. Severus lifted a tentative finger and stroked Lucius's chest, trying not to hurt him, assessing how serious the wounds are.

'Please,' Lucius said quietly, 'ask me in the morning. Sleep now.'

'Yes, Master,' Severus whispered. At least he probably would sleep, with Lucius here and his body melting with exhaustion and satisfaction.

As they lay, falling into sleep, Lucius said: 'Severus ... I told you I had enough names to get me out without telling them yours.'

'Yes.'

'But – you know ... I would have told them your name, if I'd had to – if the alternative was ...'

Severus raised his hand and stroked Lucius's hair, something he would not normally be permitted to do, but for which he was not punished now. 'I know you'd tell them if you had to,' he said simply. 'I expect I would do the same.' He wasn't sure whether the last part was a lie.

But then, he reflected, that was what happened when things were turned on their heads, and people who loved each other were forced into betrayal. The world was growing dark, and you couldn't tell the calm from the storm.


End file.
